Amour Mystere
by silverfox98
Summary: In a time of grief and terror, all Ginny wants is to get out alive. And surprisingly, so does Draco Malfoy. They bond in the most cliche of ways, detention. But it doesn't end there. For the DG fic exchange on LJ.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Amour Mystere

Rating: T for language

Pairing: Draco/Ginny

Disclaimer: I own nothing

Full Summary: _Pride is the only thing you have left when your dignity, power, and sense of reality is stripped away slowly, leaving you broken from the inside_

As the world gets ready to engage in the oncoming war, Ginny is stuck inside the castle, restless, and needing to feel a change in her life. Draco stays in fear that the Dark Lord will finally discover that he doesn't support the cause. They clash in the most cliché of ways…. Detention. Yet, it doesn't end there.

A/N: Thank you to both Alexandria malfoy and dimethylmercury for beta'ing my fic, or I would never have finished! This was written for the DG Fic Exchange on LJ for lyndsiefenele! I'm glad you liked it! This is the first chapter in a five part story; and guess what? It's finished. Read & Review!

…

Chapter 1

If I was truly honest with myself, which I wasn't, I would truly admit that being at Hogwarts and acting like a good little princess while the rest of the world, or your family, is fighting in a war against infinite odds didn't really thrill me. Because in times like this, you really _can't_be honest with yourself. Pride is the only thing you have left when your dignity, power, and sense of reality is stripped away slowly, leaving you broken from the inside; you can only rely on your pride to step up and not let you fall into pieces at your adversaries' feet. With the war raging right outside the walls of the ancient castle, you can practically cut the tension — seventh years longing to fight in the war, trying to prove their potential; fifth years, Slytherin and Gryffindor alike, trying to protect the innocent at heart; and small first and second years who try to live a normal life while everyday, black owls swarm the castle and land in front of poor souls. It's sad these days as we watch students' faces crumble when they read that deathly note: the realization that their family is dead while they are stuck inside the stronghold meant to protect the students, with no real way to truly be comforted by those you love.

When a first year receives that owl, it's truly tragic watching them, aghast and staring in disbelief at the parchment, before their small faces crumple in grief and they take on a mourning expression way beyond their years. We try and comfort them, all of us here. The whole castle, even the teachers (with the exception of the Carrows) and rumored Death Eater children, has reached a sort of truce as we watch the poor kids. They don't torment us, we don't torment them. It's a set, invisible rule that we all respect. After all, we are only kids; the whole world is out there fighting. Even the likes of Draco Malfoy, who was thought to have a heart of ice and stone, showed he did know what was at stake.

…

As I patrolled the halls on Wednesday night, I heard a soft rustle of footsteps and peered into a small alcove. Another rule in a castle that was wracked with grief is that whenever we catch a small unsuspecting person, we just send them on their way; no questions asked and no points take away. No one ever ventures into abandoned corridors to meet anymore, or walks around trying to avoid Filch on a dare. Peeves still has his fun, even if it is toned down. It's the highlight of our day as we watch him prank the horrid Carrows before they try to curse him as he just cackles and disappears.

In the small alcove, I found a hidden room. Cozy and clean, it was warm and gave a nice sense of security and silence. As I was about to move on, a blonde head moved from behind a couch and I turned in shock from behind the curtain to see Draco Malfoy talking quietly to small Jimmy Peakes, his blue eyes wide with shock and glistening with terrified tears. I took a step forward but halted and tried to listen.

"Walk quickly…" the Slytherin prince murmured, quickly glancing toward the waving curtain every few seconds.

"Go back to you room, don't leave…"

"But…"

"It's dangerous… your mates should know that…"

"Don't wander about anymore, Peakes…"

Stifling a gasp, I turned to flee. Malfoy's face was a complete mask, but his tragically beautiful grey eyes glowed with fear, panic, and… compassion?

Quickly, I dashed down the halls, red hair flying, as I hurried to finish my patrol in hopes of receiving a good night's sleep and never run into the Slytherin prince again. Turning a corner, I slammed right into… Draco Malfoy.

Of course. Damn.

"Well, if it isn't the little Weaslette," he smirked condescendingly, but something was bothering him. They say the eyes are the windows to your soul and I certainly believe that. Harry's emerald eyes always sparkled with grief and, in contradiction, happiness. You could practically see his life reflected through them. Mine were always said to be warm and open for the entire world to read. Malfoy was no different. Even though his face was an incredibly blank canvas, save for the slight smirk, his eyes still glowed with… _something_. I didn't have the energy to respond and just inclined my head,

"Malfoy." I pushed myself up quickly, warily watching Malfoy's lithe body as I straightened.

"What?" he sneered, "Did the poor Weasley clan leave their precious wittle princess here while Perfect Potter and his sidekicks are off saving the world?"

"As a matter of fact, yes they did." I sent him an overly sweet, sugar-coated grin at his disbelieving expression, "Thanks for clearing that up." I guess Malfoy pride came to his rescue as the shocked expression washed from his face, and he moved closer to me. I could smell the subtle scent of his obviously _very_manly cologne.

"Little girls shouldn't be walking around at this time, especially little Weaslettes," he murmured, invading my personal space. My head screamed for me to move as I remembered all too well what happened the last time I let someone get near my body, and my heart. I flinched, taking a shaky step back, eyes wide, and I fled, mind racing.

_Not Tom, not again…_

…

"Ginny! Ginny, wake up!"

A hand pressed urgently on my shoulder, jostling it as I slept.

"Gin, please! We are going to be late for Carrows'!"

I snapped up, head spinning as I turned to the stupid clock over at my bedside.

"Oh, damn it!" I screeched, flying out of bed as I tried to pull on some more or less presentable clothes and brush my teeth at the same time. I ended up, instead, on the floor with both legs in one pant leg, toothpaste in my hair, face, and everywhere that it was obviously not supposed to be, with a lone sock stuck to the left side of my face with static. I wasn't always the best at multitasking. The girl near my bed sniggered, flopping onto the sheets and counting the cracks in the Gryffindor Tower ceiling as I hurried to assemble a presentable idea of myself.

"Shut up, Cas!" I panicked, trying to pull on my robes while brushing the tangled mass of knots in my impossibly thick hair. She chose not to comment, and instead, resumed counting (137) while I finally combed my gigantic knot of hair into a presentable ponytail and smoothed down my black robes. There was a stain on my right shoulder, but I couldn't bring myself to care. Staring at the clock, I nearly fainted in horror.

"Bugger, we are going to be so late!" Dashing down the stairs with Cassidy at my heels, I flew into the common room, eyes wild.

"Shite, shite, shite!" I hissed. "Why the hell didn't you wake me up earlier?"

She shrugged. "You needed the sleep."

"What I don't need is a stupid detention!" I cried hysterically. The infuriating girl just smirked, pulling black hair into a ponytail swiftly and pointed to the notice board,

_**Dark Arts class will be canceled for Tuesday at 8:30 and rescheduled for Thursday during the Sixth year's free period.**_

_Amycus Carrow_

I gasped as the panic washed away, only to be channeled into unbridled anger at my dorm mate.

"AND YOU DIDN'T TELL ME THIS, BECAUSE?" I glared, eyes crackling, enunciating each syllable slowly and deliberately.

She just shrugged, not caring, and said, "I didn't see a reason to. Are you done now? I want to eat." She picked at a small hole in her robe sleeve, unconcerned. Why the heck was this girl my friend?

"Anyway," she continued. "You still have to finish the potions essay during breakfast and — don't look at me like that!" Oh right, that's why. Homework had always seemed insignificant to me. Why study when the real world is just at your fingertips?

"I'm not hungry," I snarled. I knew I was being immature, but I was in no mood to allow defeat. Of course my empty stomach decided to finally make an appearance and rumble quite loudly in the empty common room. Slanting an amused look at said stomach, she dashed through the portrait hole to the Great Hall. I had no choice but to follow, lest Cass get into even more trouble with her care-free attitude. I always admired how she was able to just get up and have fun, even in a time of crisis. She nearly surpassed the twins' record with how many detentions she got, but that didn't stop her, even now, from trying to boost everyone's considerably low spirits.

As I leisurely made it to the Great Hall (just to annoy her some more) my eyes naturally, or unnaturally, flew to a shock of white blonde hair as he laughed out loud with his cronies. _At least they can laugh at a time of sadness_, I couldn't help but think. I shook my head in confusion and kept walking, keeping my eyes resolutely forward as I quickly strode past him. There was a burst of rowdy laughter behind me, punctured by the high-pitched squeals of that pig, Parkinson. I walked quicker, knowing that I was their victim, the rousing joke that started their laughter. _Probably about my appearance again_, I sighed and walked through the doors, where Cassidy greeted me. If I had turned around, I just might've noticed Draco's quick glance as he smirked to his friends and sneered about the Dark Lord. I might've noticed how he sent a futile look in my direction before sitting down. But, of course, I remained oblivious as I sat with my back to the Slytherins. I thought I knew everything, was wary of everything, but maybe I was wrong.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Sorry guys! I know I said every week, but school kinda hit me hard and I'm trying to focus. u_u So here is the 2nd chapter (three more to go!) Please, please, please READ AND REVIEW!

Chapter 2:

The week passed by slowly, and the tension emanating in the halls spiked as everyone, even the first years, started to accept the sad reality, that the Final Battle was closer than they could ever imagine. Even worse was the sick pleasure the Carrows got in torturing and breaking the young students. We watched in utter helplessness as the little eleven year olds stumbled into the room every night with blood stains on their shambled robes and tears falling down their dirty faces. I felt devastated trying, but not really doing anything of substance as I stared out the clear window in my dorm at the sparkling snow. How could the outside world look so beautiful while we were all like fragile mirrors, broken into shards and in need of help? Was the world that cruel as to give everyone the false pretence that everything will be okay?

Neville said my eyes were unfocused later on, as they stared out onto the frozen lake in thought, but I disagreed. I thought I had never seen anything, or the world, clearer. Never again would a first year be able to play a snowball fight without thinking the wet snow would suddenly grow legs and attack their unwary forms. The world was fighting already. So I figured, talking to Neville and Luna, as we lay sprawled on sofas in the Room of Requirement, what do we have to lose?

My brown eyes transferred from the fire to their faces. Neville's gleamed with anticipation and happiness at the prospect of doing something important for the devastated world. Yet Luna's shone with something akin to… reluctance?

"Luna, we have to do this." I smiled at her, drunk on possibilities, or maybe delusions. "Don't you see we have to try and help Harry?"

Luna said nothing, watching my shining face with her dreamy blue eyes.

"Is that really why, Ginny?" she murmured, her eyes taking settling on the fire, "Or are you just scared and restless like the rest of us?"

I shook my head, refusing to listen to her realistic words, ignoring the pain in my gut telling me she was right. I had to do this.

"No, Luna. We HAVE to do this; not just for Harry either!" Maybe Neville and I were being too Gryffindor-ish while Luna acted like the practical Ravenclaw she was, but our heads were set, bodies ready, and the dreamy-eyed girl couldn't sway me, or him.

…

The beginning of our fool-proof plan started off well enough. Luna had skipped over to Snape in that odd, slightly ditzy way of hers and proceeded to fire at him twenty or so questions about the Crumpled Horn Snorksnack and various other odd creatures in her imagination while Neville and I snuck in with an Invisibility Cloak I procured "magically"(Neville didn't ask, and neither did Luna). I saw the glass case and, slowly, we made our way toward the glittering sword. I paused; awed, giddy and… scared? I shook my head in confusion at my obvious reluctance. _No, for my family_

Neville sent me an odd glance.

"You aren't rethinking this, are you?" he whispered, agitated with his eyes trained on the mahogany door as I pulled the cloak off with an exaggerated flourish to calm my overflowing nerves. I gingerly made my way over.

"No, not by a long shot."

Neville let out a soft whoosh of air in relief and fear. Sweat matted his brown hair as I tip-toed across the chamber. Was the office ever this big? I heard a grunt, and both of our eyes swung over to the portrait of a Headmaster with a bright red, almost Weasley red, beard and in contrast, no hair at all on the top of his head. I almost laughed, almost.

"Ginny, come on and hurry!" he hissed, hands shaking, his eyes straining to catch a glimpse of Snape before he could catch us in the act.

I sent a quick glance at Dumbledore's still frame, his beard ruffling as he breathed. Who knew the greatest Headmaster of all time snored? Outside, I heard the exasperated shout of Snape as Luna asked him yet another question. I dashed over, stealthiness failing me as I gazed down, expecting to see a sparkling ruby hilt, before I gasped out loud in utter shock. Immediately, Neville dashed over, ready to help. In confusion he glanced at the sword and at my frozen form as I stumbled back in horror, eyes boring a hole in the glass.

"Ginny! Please don't freak out! This is not the time," he exclaimed quietly, grasping my arm, his brown eyes wide. But I just shook my head, red hair covering my deathly pale cheeks as I grabbed onto the edge of the Headmaster's cluttered desk.

"It's not there. The Sword of Gryffindor isn't there!"

Neville looked at me oddly, "What are you talking about? It's right there!"

"It's not there." I was pale white now, shaking. "That's not the real sword!"

"Of course it is, Ginny. We have to hurry! He's coming back! Grab it."

I just shook my head, reaching for the doorknob, forgetting that Snape was on the other side. That sword… It didn't have the same glow, or the ruby, the same purity. Everything was just so wrong. My fantasy faded as reality came crashing back. _What am I doing? _The sword wasn't the one I saw in the Chamber, not the one stained with the basilisk's blood on Dumbledore's desk. The door swung open, slammed the opposite wall and I blacked out.

…

It took a while to gain my friends' trust again. Neville and Luna spent weeks just ignoring me, as if I never existed. It hurt terribly, but I knew I was right, that the sword in Snape's office was a complete and utter fraud. I shared with no one that knowledge, not even Neville and Luna. It was my secret that, for once, I refused to divulge. After a month of pleading and begging for their forgiveness, they agreed to believe my far-fetched story that I had just froze in fear. Even then, it was more of a polite acquaintance than the fast friends we had once been. I suppose I should be lucky that I hadn't gotten anything worse than a month of detention instead of being expelled for sneaking into the Headmaster's office. Alecto was all for using the Cruciatus Curse on me but Snape shook his head adamantly. Neville was sent to McGonagall while Luna with Sinastra in the Astronomy tower. I had no idea who was to watch over my own detention.

…

Hagrid greeted me with a swift nod, his black mangled hair even more tangled than mine. Taking his glowing lantern in one hand and beckoning to Fang with the other, he led me deep into the heart of the Forbidden Forest. Quietly, he gestured me into a small clearing, sending one sympathetic glance towards me with his black eyes before walking back to the hut. I turned and cast an analytical glance around. The clearing was fairly decent, a soft light casting the grass and tree trunks in a subtle glow. It was perfectly circular, and on the edges and small random spots were clusters of different plants and herbs. A stack of books lay on the edge of the clearing in a small square. It was quiet in the grove, nothing but the wind and rustle of leaves as towering trees cast long shadows on the grass. Running a hand over the worn binding of one of the books I opened to a random page and read… Greek. Or at least I thought it was Greek. I gaped openly, aghast. How the bloody hell did they think I could read any of this?

"It says, "_In the hearts of the kind and happy, the orchid Dendrobium ardens glows with mystical beauty. Brilliant as a substitute in Amortenia._'"Jumping in shock, I turned to become face to chest with Draco Malfoy, who, shock of all shocks, was smirking in amusement at my fear.

"What the — what are you doing here?" I hissed, unable to break the beautiful silence in the clearing. His white hair caught the light and glowed like a lighthouse. I found it quite hard to tear my eyes away before staring fixedly at the stack of books in the corner. I still could see from my peripheral vision though...

"Why, Weasley," he smirked evilly. "I would've thought it was obvious? What with your upbringing, though, I wouldn't be surprised."

I just rolled my eyes in exasperation, quite surprised with how I took the comment/insult and, so apparently, was he. Then it finally clicked; my jaw dropped unbecomingly and eyes grew wide with horror. In contrast, he grinned cheekily and chuckled under his breath.

"No."

"Yes."

"No!"

"Real mature, Weasley." I glared at him in hatred and stalked over to the books, sitting next to them. I said nothing, staring fixedly at air, mind reeling at the overwhelming feelings of fear (that happens a lot now doesn't it?), wariness, and ... intrigue? No, that couldn't possibly be it. Ignoring me entirely, he began to pace the length of the grass. I soon got dizzy watching and cast my eyes around for another thing to stare at.

"I'm not happy about spending a whole damn month with you either, Weasley." He sneered at my obviously discontent expression. "But since I'm the only student in the ENTIRE school who can understand and translate these books," he gestured lazily to me, "you are stuck with me."

I didn't respond and just looked at the titles, as he went on a tirade of what I was and was not to do. I was way past caring anyway. Finally he stopped for a breath, glaring down at me,

"Did you listen AT ALL?"

I shook my head sullenly, acting like an immature brat. Even I knew that.

"Weasley," he threatened, obviously annoyed as his grey eyes narrowed.

I shook my head to get rid of the flies eating my poor brain up and pointed at the flowers.

"So what are we suppose to do, Malfoy?"

He just shrugged. Helpful.

"The professors want us to restock their supplies and, apparently, this is the best place to get everything." He smiled slightly, and I did NOT notice how it emphasized his high cheekbones and how his grey eyes lit up.

I nodded. "If we have to work together, I suppose we should be civil..." I trailed off and finally looked at him as he nodded in answer and handed me a list.

"What we need to collect." Pointing to the books he said, "And our reference."

Nodding, I asked, "Wait, how long are we going to be out here?"

"Oh, a better part of four hours," he murmured sullenly, sitting down next to me and grabbing the nearest book. I guess he meant it when he said he was being civil as he chose to ignore the disbelieving expression on my face and flipped to the exact page where he was to find... Spiritus Aqua.

…

After what I could only guess was two hours, I started to wither away from exhaustion and so was Malfoy. He was better at hiding it, but I could still see how slow he walked. I flipped the pages listlessly, not really reading the Greek, just staring at the colorful moving drawings, waiting for him to tell me what to collect next. We had made a sort of system out of this whole detention: he would translate, and I would collect the plants. Keeping to the promise, we would talk civilly whenever it was necessary, but the tension and silence was starting to kill me. Simply put, I was utterly and incredibly bored.

"What's your favorite Quidditch team?" Even I was surprised I asked. Yet I would have gone to drastic measures; anything to break the quiet spell the clearing put on us.

He looked up in poorly hidden surprise.

"Excuse me?"

"Quidditch team, what's your favorite?" I asked again, exasperated. Pulling at another sprig of Fern Verto, I sat down, exhausted. I looked at him expectantly, pushing a lock of red hair back into its messy ponytail, and smearing about half of the forest's contents on my face in the process. Seeing my dirty cheeks, Malfoy ducked his head as he chuckled AGAIN, and I glared at him before asking my question for a third time, just with ai_ little_/imore emphasis.

"I suppose the Falcons," he said thoughtfully, eyes skimming the pages before turning and grasping another thick volume.

I gasped in outrage. "Falcons? Really?" That, of course, went against every Quidditch related thing I had been indoctrinated with since birth. It was as though I came out of my mother's womb with a deep-seated hatred for the Falmouth Falcons.

He looked at me oddly. "And what," he asked, "is wrong with the Falcons?" I searched relentlessly for words to express my horror.

"They... they are... they are Falcons! For one, their bloody seeker is horrible! And have you _seen their chasers recently? _Who the bloody hell would like the FALCONS?"

He sneered, pushing the book back to me so I could see the emerald green leaf and traipsed across the clearing to pick the plant with the dragon hide gloves I borrowed from Sprout.

"Well first of all, Weasley, I do. And Malfoy's are always right. Second, they are the second best team in the all of England. What low level teams do you WEASLEYS support?" Draco smirked as I fell after pulling a stubborn branch.

"What happened to being civil?"

He just shrugged. "That, was boring."

Grinning, I packaged the plant and sat down again, crossing my legs Indian style.

"I suppose I support the Cannons." I said wistfully, remembering Ron's bright orange room. Turning towards him, I laughed loudly as he spluttered in helpless indignation.

"The Cannons? Have you no dignity?"

I smirked slightly.

"Have you no shame?" he demanded with a shake of his head dramatically.

"Well..."

"Don't answer that. I already know that Weasleys will always be ashamed for not being as good as a Malfoy."

"Wow."

"I know, now all you have to do is bow down at my feet and all is forgiven."

"Hell no."

**NOTE** All the plants I mentioned are from my own imagination!


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Again, my updates are sporadic. BIG WORD! ^^ I'm crazy, but homework is really getting to me. Here's chapter 3!

Chapter 3 

As the month progressed, my relationship with Draco hardly improved. Yes, we were on a first name basis now and we could have a civil conversation without dying to just rip each others heads off, but besides that, nothing really happened. We were cordial and I suppose it was for the best. I guess the tiniest part in me yearned for more. After Harry left I had enough with heroes, I guess. During detentions we had a sort of system: he translated and I did the "dirty work", as he put it. Once, we had finally gotten through the extensive potions list and finished the Transfiguration list (surprisingly enough, McGonagall needed MANY ingredients [which just happened to be crucial components of a headache solution]) we were allowed a three-day break. Draco and I had studiously avoided Sprout's list the whole month, instead tackling Trelawney's list (very… interesting plants; neither Draco nor I were quite enthusiastic to touch a little sprig of sparking leaves). But finally, _finally_, we were stuck with the dreaded HERBOLOGY list. That piece of parchment alone stretched eight feet, and by the end of the first week, we had not even gotten past the second foot before I had admitted defeat to the paper and slumped, begging for mercy. Well not as dramatically, I still had my dignity after all, but even Draco had gotten sick of the cursed plants.

"Never, ever again, will I ever touch a plant," I murmured, staring aghast at the list that kept on giving. Draco just shook his head in defeat, staring unfixed at the forest,

"I promise I'll be a good little Death Eater. I promise, as long as I never have to touch another damn plant again!" The last part he shouted to the heavens in misery while I completely disregarded the fact that he said the horrible word, "Death Eater". I was too busy wallowing in our shared misery to dwell on the statement.

"Je déteste les plantes. Je déteste les plantes," I hissed, shaking my poor head as I watched Draco hover over to the stack and pull out a new book. I jumped in surprise as Draco turned around quickly and stared at me with an expression I've never, ever seen on him: surprise. Naturally, I whirled around, casting my eyes over every corner of the forest, yet I didn't see anything in the least bit exciting.

"What?" I asked in confusion, turning my face around to study Draco's; the light bounced off perfectly from his white hair. He was glowing, like a forbidden angel. He recovered himself, I suppose, schooling his face into a blank mask, yet his eyes were a little slow on the uptake, glowing for a second more.

"You speak French?" he asked slowly, laying the Grecian book down to rest and sat on the grass, looking up expectantly like a petulant child, bottom lip slightly stuck out in a pout, as if I didn't tell a secret that he was dying to know. I nodded slowly, it never did occur to me to tell anyone that I was quite fluent in the language of romance; it just never came up.

He sneered, "Well I suppose Weasleys just had to try to find a way to fit in with the right crowd didn't they?"

I just rolled my eyes in mock exasperation, completely fed up with his attitude as I sat down next to him and leaned back on an old tree trunk.

"I'm not sure. Mum simply decided that she wanted me to be bilingual, I guess," I trailed off, staring out into the darkening sky. "My brothers don't exactly know how to speak French except Bill —"

I sighed at his cocked eyebrow. "He works at Gringotts," I explained, not really sure why I even bothered. He just nodded in acceptance, leaning on the trunk as well, closing his eyes in abject boredom. That didn't stop him from speaking out loud though.

"Well I suppose ONE Weasley would try to have a redeeming quality besides, of course, being pureblood…" He stopped, pausing in thought. "Even if you are a blood-traitor."

I froze, turning towards his limp form, eyes wide. Then, I laughed, really laughed. I hadn't actually laughed so spontaneously since the beginning of this year, maybe longer, and the motion felt foreign, like it was the first time I truly used my lungs to breathe and I felt ridiculously giddy. I was floating, light and happy as I looked at his obviously incredulous expression.

"Excuse me? Did I say something that amuses you?" He cocked one pale eyebrow in question.

I chortled, rolling over as tears flowed down my face; once I started, I couldn't stop.

"No, no, it's just…" I paused shaking my head to clear everything up. My eyebrows drew in, bottom lip stuck out just a little as I chewed on it. "You know, I really don't know."

"What can I say? All Weasleys are barmy."

"Yes I suppose so, but then again, the same can be said about the Malfoys."

"Oh no, I assure you we are quite normal, or beyond that."

"You people interbreed. I highly doubt that's good for your brain, or maybe you were just dropped once… or twice… or a hundred."

He chuckled. "Oh very funny, but I am quite sure that we only have a crazy one every other generation. Like Aunt Bella."

I shivered, that horrid trollop was the reason I still had scars on my back that refused to heal.

"Oh, of course. How cruel of me to never guess."

"So, does that mean you'll actually bow now?"

"In your dreams, Malfoy."

"Want to make your dreams reality?"

"Back to work!"

"Bollocks."

…

I slumped and Draco followed, watching the stars twinkle as we threw down the list. Draco raised his wand and whispered,

_Incendio,_ lighting the parchment aflame.

"Oh thank Merlin," I whispered, staring at the burning flames in something akin to fascination.

"I thought we would never finish!" I moaned, running a dirty hand through my hair in exhaustion.

He could only nod in agreement, chuckling slightly as I pushed myself up and tried to brush the mud off my hopelessly tattered robes. The last item on the list had both of us tramping through the forest in search of a swamp to find a _natural_ Mandrake. Ha, _natural_ my arse_._Chuckling again, Draco got up as well, stretching. I was coming to terms with the fact that he was attractive, even if I didn't actually like his temperament. Right… I admired how the robes stretched off his lean form, hinting at a muscular yet lithe frame. Yum. Shaking his head in amusement, Draco picked up the two heaviest bags filled with plants while I dragged mine through the worn path we used every day for the past thirty days to bring the plants to Professor Sprout. We both came back with a sizeable grudge against the Herbology teacher now as well.

As we exited the greenhouses, I yawned, turning towards the Great Hall. Draco followed, watching the stars, deep in thought. I slightly smiled, lifting a worn hand to trace the invisible pattern, letting my hand limply fall back down. Slanting his head slightly, Draco's lip turned up in what could have been as much as a smirk as a smile, probably a smirk.

"Pretty isn't it?" he asked softly, careful not to disturb the darkness, and I felt…elated, like the war never existed and the heavy burden I had no idea I carried was lifted. I nodded to what I think was him, or his shadow.

"Beautiful." But of course, he decided to ruin the mood with one of his sarcastic comments.

"Of course it's nothing like me but still; it IS a dragon!"

"Oh, shut up you conceited prat!"

"So you admit it!"

"I… you… it…. AH!" My cheeks flooded with red-hot heat as I struggled to push it back down. It did not work.

"You're blushing!" he sang, grinning for real this time as he danced out of my slap.

Instead of hitting his face, I hit his arm. I did not notice how firm it was. Not. One. Bit. Smiling, he turned to me, watching my broken, shadowed face. For the past month, the deep black bags under my eyes slowly disappeared, even as I stayed up late to pick up plants.

Cass smiled slightly the last time I saw her and commented, "You look happy…"

I gaped, I didn't feel any different. Immediately, grief and confusion fled in, but she mistook my expression for guilt since she put a comforting arm around my neck and whispered, "It's good for you. At least one of us in the world is happy, right?"

…

Shaking my head of the memories, I turned and studied his high cheekbones, mercury eyes and slightly thin lips. Lost in thought, I never noticed as he took a step closer, so that I had to tilt my head up a fair amount to be able to see his face clearly in the overcast of shadows. Tilting my head slightly to the right, I chewed my bottom lip in hesitation as I finally noticed really how close he was to me, his head millimeters away. It was a fairytale story, really; a poor princess and a charming prince (I didn't just call him charming) lean in, our breaths mingling and everything. He smelled like pine — woodsy and spicy — a thrilling, intoxicating smell that had my head spinning before I even leaned in to taste what he had to offer. I never did actually get to, since all fairytale's must come to an end; just not always by the book, or happily ever after. Of course it decided to start sprinkling as we stood there in the open, and then — it rained. Pouring rain, drops of water drummed the ground in beat with our footsteps as we dashed through the field, head down as we dove for the doors. I couldn't help laughing, devastated tears mingling with the rain on my cheeks, turning them apple red as my hair grew damp and heavy, sticking to the sides of my face. Draco's hair hung limply, pasted to his head, and his pale skin shone unnaturally as he tried to dry himself off in the foyer. I took a short steadying breath as my chest heaved; whether it was from tension or cramps, I will never know.

Staring at Draco's face, I couldn't help but grin in amusement. With his cheeks bright red and eyes glowing, he looked surreal. I probably looked like a mess, but I didn't very well care at the moment.

"So?" he asked, definitely smirking this time, head tilted.

I shuffled my footsteps like a meek cat, not at all like the persona I had tried to build. I kept my head down, curly hair pulled in front of my face to hide my sparkling eyes and upturned lip. His whole demeanor changed; eyes drifted down, eyebrows drawn in. His whole stance changed into something that I would never have thought a Malfoy could exude: hesitance. His steps were slow and uneven, eyes shifting from the wall and back as he ran a weary hand through fine blond hair. So captivated was I by his movements that I failed to notice how close he had gotten once again until an uneven, ragged breath whispered across my cheek, sending a shiver down my spine as I averted my eyes from Draco's face.

Suddenly his lips drifted towards mine, abruptly covering my soft, cold lips with his as he shifted for a better position. I didn't fight — couldn't — or maybe wouldn't. I felt no power as he gently moved his lips over mine, his tongue dancing. I sighed, my hands slowly, hesitantly drifting around his neck to find purchase in the white hair at the nape. My eyes drifted shut as I opened my mouth to let him taste me. He tasted like he smelled, and not in a bad way. Spicy and sweet, in a wonderful way that left me dying, or maybe just begging, for more. It ended as quickly as it had started as he drew back quickly and stumbled, a look of utter horror on his features as he stared at my flushed face.

"Merlin," he breathed, shaking his head. "What've I done?"

"Wait what?" I demanded, gathering my bearings as I turned in indignation towards that bastard. He took two more steps back, pulling at his black robes; he looked insane.

"I shouldn't have done that," he hissed condescendingly.

"Why? Because I'm a bloody Weasley?" I asked, enraged. My eyes had narrowed to slits. How dare he take advantage of me! How bloody dare —

"What the fu — no! You, I, we — AH!" Stuttering like a "commoner" he stormed through the hall, back to what I expected was the Slytherin Dungeons, leaving me standing in the middle of the Great Hall with no idea what had just happened.

…

Thankfully, my detention had finally been served thoroughly and I was back in class with a normal schedule. With one exception. My thoughts wholly revolved around the elusive Draco. I couldn't figure out what really happened. He had just… left. I mean, I understood I was a blood-traitor, a _Weasley_ at that, but… _I__'__m__being__too__hypocritical,_ I thought. _Our__families__have__hated__each__other__for__centuries__His__reaction__was__natural__… __right?__Then__why__am__I__still__thinking__about__it?_


End file.
